by Mary Calmes
Russ inhaled sharply.
“Everyone with me today is leaving with me when I go.”
He had their sudden attention, his father and brothers all riveted.
“Go?” Russ asked, standing up slowly.
“Yes,” Logan apprised him. “You want me gone—it seems the whole tribe does. Ask for a show of hands now, Russ, and we’ll make this simple.”
He was stunned. Peter could not look away from Logan, and Koren’s mouth hung open in obvious shock.
After a moment Russ turned from his brother to the assembled crowd. “May I have your attention?” he called out.
As he spoke to the tribe, I turned to see who was sitting in the area designated for those who chose to follow Logan. Only Ivan’s parents were there. When I waved, they got up to hurry over to greet me.
“My reah,” they both said, taking my hand, one after the other, before hugging their son.
I missed the vote, but it was unanimous. I was sad that it had taken a lifetime for Logan to earn the love and loyalty of his tribe and only months to lose it. I understood it at the same time.
I wanted to tell them all, You’re making a mistake letting Logan go. He’s the best man, the best leader, the best everything. Him leaving will diminish this tribe. But it was useless, and I knew, just like he knew, that saying anything would be meaningless.
“I thought,” Logan said, turning from the tribe that had just voted, by a show of raised hands, to have Russ lead the tribe instead of him, “that I needed to fight to stay. I thought my stepping down would be like giving up, because no semel worth anything relinquishes the birthright of leading his tribe.”
Everyone was quiet, waiting.
“But now I realize if I had simply stepped down yesterday, maybe members of what used to be my khatyu would still be alive, maybe Andrian—” He inhaled sharply. “I don’t know. I can’t second-guess my resolve. A semel fights for his place, it’s in our nature.”
Still the quiet continued.
“But if no one has faith in me anymore, if what I did for over twenty years can be so easily forgotten, then I’m wasting my time. Better to find a new place for me and my family to thrive instead of trying to force something that can no longer work.”
“Renounce your claim to the tribe,” Peter demanded.
Logan took a breath. “I hereby renounce all claim to the tribe of Mafdet and take away from here all who stand with me today, both at my side and in my home. Record it within the tribe record.”
“As it is witnessed, so let it be done,” Peter proclaimed to the tribe.
I had never seen Logan’s father look happier, and watching him hug first Russ and then Koren almost made me physically sick. He was losing his firstborn son, his daughter, and most of all, his mate of almost sixty years, but none of that mattered. All that did was winning. I simply didn’t understand how the need to rule, the need for the tribe, could overwhelm his love for his family.
The cheering from the tribe as they surged around their new semel was loud, deafening, and then it simply lessened in layers, peeled away one person at a time until I could finally see around the crowd to what had instantly silenced everyone.
Domin Thorne stood at the foot of the dais, flanked by Yuri Kosa and Mikhail Gorgerin. His smile was wicked and wide. “I’m sorry I’m late. I hope I didn’t miss the fight. Everyone knows how much I enjoy a good one.”
I had been so focused on Logan that I’d missed the movement above us at the rim of the pit until Domin Thorne and his entire retinue converged around us. He had thirty people there, and since Domin was playing savior at the moment, I really should have gone right to him. But I just wanted, for a second, to not worry about anything. For one small moment, I wanted to put myself completely in someone else’s hands.
Logan protected me, but never just me. Everyone. It was the semel’s lot in life to worry about the many. It was how they were made. Even now, everything, all of us were on his shoulders. Russ, his father, the tribe—they all thought that Logan needing me had meant he would let down his guard of all the people he loved, but it never would have. He was vigilant for everyone, which meant Ilia and I were not his only concerns.
Crane had his own family to care for, so he couldn’t be my singular champion either. The fact of the matter was, as a reah, as Logan’s mate, I needed more people than just my beset by my side, and there had been no one I trusted to be there, fully invested… since Yuri Kosa.
So when I saw him there, standing next to Domin, looking for only me, I broke inside. And then I ran.
I got close and leaped, and Yuri caught me in his big, beefy arms and hugged me to his wide barrel chest, and I would have lost it, would have totally just broken down and bawled, but he spoke first.
“My reah,” he whispered.
From Yuri it meant more. From Yuri, who had been the first to say it, my title meant that I was his because I was Logan’s. It wasn’t an honorific to be spoken, but instead was my place in his heart. He loved Logan, he loved me, and so it was simple.
“I came to see a challenge,” Domin crowed as he patted my back before he walked by.
Yuri gave me a tight squeeze and then set me back down on my feet so we could both see Domin as he swaggered up to Russ.
“So you want to be a semel?”
They all looked terrified, and I knew some of it was the knowledge that Domin Thorne didn’t travel with regular khatyu, but instead with Shu warriors. But even more, it was that the akhen-aten was in the pit of the tribe of Mafdet on a Sunday night, and if he wanted, he could put every last person to death just on his say-so.
“Where are your challengers?”
“But you heard Logan, my lord,” Russ managed to get out. “He relinquished all ties to the tribe.”
“I did,” Domin agreed. “But I’m not talking about Logan. I’m speaking of the others.”
“Others?”
Domin tipped his head, and while it looked suspiciously like he didn’t understand something, I knew better.
“I’m not following.”
“Have you or have you not called for challengers?” Domin asked, smiling. “It’s a simple enough question.”
“My lord,” Peter interrupted. “Ruslan would not call for challengers as a Church has led the tribe of Mafdet for—”
“A firstborn male has led,” Domin corrected him sharply. “A semel born has led the tribe of Mafdet, not an heir, and certainly not a third-born.”
“Yes, but—”
“So, because a first-born, a true semel, will no longer be leading the tribe, then you must, in fact, as a point of law, ask if there are any challengers.”
“I challenged Logan!” Russ protested.
“But you didn’t win in combat,” Domin explained slowly, condescendingly. “You didn’t defeat the semel, and really, could not, as that would be impossible without benefit of additional men or a weapon.”
“Yes, but—”
“A normal cat—which you are—cannot defeat a semel in solitary combat.”
There was no retort. It was the absolute truth.
“Therefore, as you did not, and as we’ve established, could not, defeat the semel in the pit… your claim is void.”
All eyes were on Domin, but he was used to that. He was the akhen-aten, the most powerful man in the werepanther world; he was quite used to being the center of attention.
“So, now, as tradition dictates, the challenge for semel is open for one cycle of the moon—thirty days—and if there are any contenders during that time, each will fight until there is a victor. The strongest panther wins and leads the tribe for the duration, be it short or long that he can hold the seat.”
“No,” Peter gasped, and I could tell Russ was confused by the way he turned to his father. Koren, too, was missing the ramifications of what had just transpired.
I had been so wrapped up in Logan leaving the tribe that I hadn’t even realized what that actually meant for the tribe.
&n
bsp; There were two kinds of werepanther tribes: those led by semels, and those led by uncles or brothers or cousins or simply by the strongest panther in a certain territory. It was how during challenges in Sobek during the Feast of the Valley, when semels died, their brothers or named heirs were contacted and had to take over and lead. But what happened after that was, the tribe moved from being a nebu tribe—a true tribe, a golden tribe—to being a menhed tribe—a tribe of recorded names, a tribe of lists. Only a true semel could pass down his tribe through his bloodline, and since Peter’s bloodline, by werepanther tradition, ended with Logan, and since Logan was stepping down… the tribe was no longer considered a true tribe.
“The tribe of Mafdet passes into the dominion of menhed,” Domin proclaimed. “And as such, until rule can be established, the sylvan will be caretaker and administer funds, the sheseru discipline until—”
“I made Artem Varda the sheseru of the tribe,” Russ told him. “But now you’re saying that I had no right to do that.”
“Correct,” Domin agreed. “Only Logan could have, so if—”
“Actually, we both did,” Logan said quickly. “Russ and I made provisions for Artem, so please accept him as sheseru.”
“Certainly,” Domin agreed, and Artem walked out of the crowd and would have continued over to Domin, but Shahid Alon, second to Rahim Dewidar, phocal of the Shu, was not having that. He stepped directly into Artem’s path.
“I wanted only to thank the akhen-aten.”
“No thanks needed,” Domin assured him. “Logan Church, one of the seven laws, my former semel, my friend, and the man who I will make semel-aten of the first tribe of Rahotep in Sobek, vouched for you. How could I ever say no?”
Logan put his hand over his heart and bowed at the waist, and everyone saw the happiness on Domin Thorne’s face. He went from looking more than a bit menacing to beaming like a little kid on Christmas morning.
Darting around Shahid, Domin reached Logan just as he straightened. “Yes? You’ll come?” he asked, sounding both anxious and excited at the same time.
“You just announced it,” Logan grunted, scowling at him.
There was no missing, even if you didn’t know either man, just from the way Domin was looking at Logan, that the man was dear to him.
“Yes, but—”
Logan opened his arms and stepped into the akhen-aten’s personal space, and when he hugged him, everyone saw Domin Thorne lean. He gave all his weight to Logan, and the relief was obvious, as was the very possessive hold evidenced by the claws that his hands had changed into now grazing Logan’s back.
“It seems that my mate likes yours,” Yuri chuckled beside me.
Yes, he did.
“Everything’s going to be okay, my reah.”
Yes, it was.
Chapter 15
ALL OF it, the whole scene, the way everything imploded, the noise, the yelling—it was all simply too much. So when Peter came at me, yelling, blaming, attacking, I was unsteady on my feet. Yuri, however, was not.
He put his immense muscular bulk between me and everyone else and finally just scooped me up and carried me out of the pit.
“I actually hate it there,” I confessed.
“No one likes the pit, Jin. That would be nuts.”
“I think because I’m so trained in the law, I’ve always felt a certain amount of safety there, because I always knew how things would go.”
“Which makes sense,” he agreed. “But now you’re going to be the mate of the leader of the first tribe, and that’s a totally different situation for you. The tribe of Rahotep, they’re going to lose their minds to have you and Logan there. To have the semel-netjer and the nekhene cat… I mean, that tribe needs to have a semel with them. They have not thrived with Domin gone. And they never really accepted Domin because he’s kadish.”
“Logan’s impure too. He’s wasn’t born into that tribe, and he’s American as well.”
“Yes, but Logan’s a semel who found his true-mate, his reah—that already makes him special. He’s then the semel-netjer. And you, everyone saw you champion Domin during the challenge of the Khatyu of Ra, and they cheered for him when you won.”
I remembered that. It had been six years ago, right after Domin became semel-aten, before he’d christened himself with his new title, akhen-aten, which basically translated to the “new dawn semel,” a title I had never liked. While I understood why he wanted to break with tradition and mark the differences in his reign with a new title, I thought calling his time as semel-aten “Harmakhet,” new dawn, was enough. The title semel-aten had stood for thousands of years; it was a cherished, worshipped name. For Domin to simply sweep it aside was something I deeply disagreed with. But now his haste was a blessing, because Domin’s desire to create himself anew meant that he was going to give the vaunted name steeped in meaning to my mate.
Logan Church would not be the leader of the werepanther world—that would still be Domin—and truly, Logan had never wanted to be. His only desire had ever been to be a semel of a singular tribe and to have one place to call his home. Now he would again. And while it would not be the tribe he was born into, and he could be challenged by anyone stupid enough to take him—or me—on, it would be one where his word was unquestioned. The first tribe, the tribe of Rahotep, was also the tribe where, more than any other, the bond between semel and reah would be seen as sacred. All the horrors we’d experienced since returning home would never have occurred in Sobek, the city outside Cairo where the first tribe resided.
“Jin?” Yuri said as he placed me down on the path from the pit back to the guesthouse and beyond, the main house. “Are you all right?”
“I am now,” I assured him, taking hold of his arm as we walked. “Tell me all about Sobek. How is Ebere?”
He chuckled. “In preparation for Logan taking over the tribe, Domin has finally given permission for her mating with Rahim Dewidar, phocal of the Shu.”
“What?” I gasped, and when Yuri looked down at me, he snorted out a laugh.
“Apparently it all began when the two of them made their first trip to Ipis together. It turned out they’re very well suited, and being the mate of a military man agrees with her.”
“She was made to be needed,” I sighed.
“She was, as are you.”
I made a noise.
“My reah?”
“People never give you enough credit for being such a keen judge of character.”
He tipped his head from side to side, eyes narrowed. “They didn’t used to. They do more now that I’m Domin’s mate. As sekhem, my thoughts carry more weight than they did as sheseru. People make a mistake of thinking that brawn never equals brains.”
“That’s foolish.”
“It is,” he agreed. “So tell me about your adventures.”
“First tell me more about everyone else. I know Domin made Jamal heir to the tribe so that if anything happened to him, Jamal would take over. Won’t he be upset that he’s handing the tribe over to Logan?”
Yuri scoffed. “Jamal is completely occupied with Satis, with being menthu, and with the imminent birth of his first child. He petitioned Domin six months ago to remove the claim of kinship. When Domin released him, you would have thought he gave Jamal a million dollars, he was that relieved.”
I exhaled deeply.
“You were worried about that.”
“And Ebere, too, yes,” I admitted. “I never want to displace anyone.”
“Sometimes you have to.”
I lifted my eyes to his. “Andrian’s dead, and all because Logan and I made the decision too late to step down.”
“My understanding was that Andrian’s family was taken while you were in transit from New Orleans. That means that the planning to get him to change his allegiance began before Logan’s response was even given.”
“But—”
“And, Jin, they were always going to go after Andrian. Whenever there is a change in power, you have to imme
diately secure the loyalty of the sheseru and the khayan—the leader of the khatyu—before you do anything else. They are the strongest in the tribe after the semel, so they must be dealt with. As Artem was made sheseru, they still had to contend with Andrian. He was like a pinned piece in chess. There was no hope that he would make it through this.”
“If Logan had known he was taken, if I had then—”
“That seems like a lot of ifs to me.”
“You’re talking about his death so logically,” I retorted.
“We’re panthers, Jin. We all know the risks of living this life.”
And that was true.
“When I was ten, I saw Peter’s sheseru deal with a man who had gotten into an accident with him. He was drunk and had plowed his car into the side of Peter’s, which was where Logan was sitting. So not only had he almost killed the next semel, but he could have killed Peter as well, all because he made a poor choice.”
“Yes.”
“So what do you think the punishment was that the sylvan demanded and that the sheseru doled out?”
I waited.
“He was decapitated.”
“That’s horrible.”
“It’s the law we subscribe to as panthers. There’s no court but your semel and sylvan, and the punishment is your sheseru.”
“Yes, but think about it,” I entreated. “If Logan had just stepped down, there would have been no point in going after Andrian.”
“You’re missing it,” he assured me, “because you don’t think like this, about killing to secure your place. And if Logan had immediately said he was resigning from the tribe, you have no way of knowing what would have happened to everyone. Without being semel, Logan could not have kept everyone at the house with him. They could have been housed other places, and he couldn’t have protected any of you.”
“Yes, but—”
“And because Logan is the only semel of the Church line, Russ had to call for challengers, just as Domin said. Without Domin here to say that Logan will be the new semel-aten, then once Logan stepped down, anyone who wanted to challenge for his mate or his family members could do so.”